They bear him to his resting-place-
In slow procession sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger-s space;
His kindred they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round with griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!
She, At His Funeral
Thomas Hardy
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Poem topics: fire, sad, space, place, stranger, stand, regret, follow, slow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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About She, At His Funeral
She, At His Funeral is a poem by Thomas Hardy. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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Brigitta Hirtreiter, 75, German: How can a man write such a poem, from the point of view of a loving woman?
I adore Hardy's novels, didn't know he had such marvellous poems.
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